


Of Accidental Interrogations and Drinks

by last_illusions (injured_eternity)



Category: CSI: NY, Criminal Minds
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Pre-show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-14
Updated: 2009-11-14
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injured_eternity/pseuds/last_illusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While spending a week in Manhattan for a conference, Special Agent Emily Prentiss runs into a certain blue-eyed detective over drinks. He chokes into his beer, and she tries not to laugh. Pre-series for both shows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Accidental Interrogations and Drinks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darkmagic_luvr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=darkmagic_luvr).



Trying not to heave a sigh, Emily Prentiss drops onto a barstool a little more heavily than necessary and orders a margarita on the rocks once the bartender gets around to her (it doesn’t take him long). She braces her forehead against her right hand, wanting—and she can’t believe she’s saying this—to go back to Kansas City. She’s not overly fond of the Midwest, but it’s where the FBI had wanted her, so it’s where she’s been for the past four years. This particular week, she’d been shipped off to New York City to attend a conference, and the heavy press of _people_ is beginning to grate.

Now, Kansas City, Missouri isn’t exactly the middle of nowhere, but it’s not Manhattan, either, and while she enjoys a vacation to the city as much as the next person, this quite notably _isn’t_ a vacation. There are too many people in _suits_ around her for it to be a vacation.

Giving in, she sighs, glancing at her phone to check the time.

“That bad, huh?”

The man seated next to her gives her a sympathetic smile, and she shrugs, smiling back because it’s impossible not to. He’s got her complexion, with the dark hair and pale skin, but she envies him the brilliant blue of his eyes. They’re the colour of chlorinated pools (or the oceans in Hawaii), and she can’t help wishing she’d been lucky enough to get eyes that striking.

“No. Yes. No.” She shakes her head at herself and groans, picking up her glass.

Chuckling softly, he nods. “Yeah, I’ve had days like that.” He takes a sip of his beer, then glances back at her. “You from around here?”

She shakes her head again, running her fingers through her loose hair. “No—forensics conference.”

“Oh, you’re one of those sciencey types, aren’t you?” he says, but the grin makes it clear he’s teasing. “I’m surrounded by enough of them at work.”

Cocking her head to the side, she shoots him a quizzical look; before she can actually voice the question, however, he answers it.

“Homicide Detective, NYPD.” He holds out his hand, and though she knows full well the charm behind that grin has just been turned on like a lightbulb, she can’t help but take it. “Don Flack.”

“Emily Prentiss.”

“My pleasure.” His handshake is firm, his grip warm, and she hits herself mentally—this man she’s just met should _not_ be making her melt. Then he tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Prentiss,” he repeats. “Sounds familiar.”

For some inexplicable reason, she finds herself holding her breath; she’s spent the day being the agent, and she doesn’t really want to spend tonight being an ambassador’s daughter. Except he’s just _looking_ at her, trying to place her, and she finds herself answering (god, what must he do to people in interrogation?).

“Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss—my mother.”

“Ah; my captain was just mentioning her last week. Something to do with his daughter, I think.”

Then, to her surprise, he simply changes the subject before she can respond. She has no idea why, but she’s grateful and very pleasantly surprised, releasing a relieved sigh.

“So who’s responsible for marooning you out here?”

His word choice makes her laugh. “FBI.”

“Oh, so you’re a fed!” He says it with the exact same tone in which he called her “one of those sciencey types”, and she grins back, nodding.

“Guilty as charged.”

He chokes into his beer, and she tries not to laugh, pausing instead to take a sip of her margarita. Before he’s completely recovered, she swings her gaze around to him again, just barely missing hitting herself in the eye with her hair. _Graceful, Em_.

“Don’t hold it against me.”

Breath in his lungs again, he laughs aloud, a low, rich tenor that sends shivers down her spine. She hits herself mentally again—and is very tempted to do so physically, except she doesn’t really want to explain why. She knows she’ll turn redder than hot salsa if she has to try, and she’s been told it’s not a very flattering colour on her.

“Now how could I do a thing like that?” he asks, drawling it out with mock offence in his tone. She shrugs, trying not to blush; he grins and continues, “So how are you liking the city?”

“There’s a lot of it,” she answers without thinking.

“Ha. Yes, there is—where are you from?”

“Just for sake of comparison, right?” His nod is accompanied by an expression of complete innocence, and she shakes her head. “Long story. Spent the past couple years in Missouri—Kansas City.”

“Bit of a switch.”

“Tell me about it,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ve been here before, but it’s a lot more fun when it’s a vacation and not a requirement.”

He chuckles softly, but before he can respond, there’s a shout of, “Hey, Flack!” from across the bar. Turning, he looks to the door and calls back, “Messer!” before looking back to her.

“I’m meeting up with some of the guys from the precinct,” he begins, and she thinks he’s going to say good night ( _that figures_ ). Instead, he offers, “Why don’t you come join us?”

Surprised, it takes her a moment to process that, and then she waves it off. “No, that’s fine—I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says with a broad grin, sliding off the stool. “You’ll fit right in—come on; I’ll introduce you.”

Still, she hesitates, and then he locks that gaze of his on her and she gives up, joining him. Why the hell not, right?

  
 _Finis._

 _Feedback is always appreciated._


End file.
